


Time for Second Guessing

by 77skie77



Series: Show Me Your Love [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-09-07 17:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20313337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/77skie77/pseuds/77skie77
Summary: During the switch, Crowley sees how the angels treat Aziraphale and starts to worry that he is bad for his angel after all. He decides to keep his distance from his love and he's not quite prepared for Aziraphale to show up at his door wondering what's wrong.Meanwhile, Aziraphale has been trying to get in touch with Crowley for days only to get his answering machine. He decides to find out what has happened to his beloved.Two part fic.





	1. The Death of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 will be in Crowley's point of view and we'll hear from Aziraphale in the next chapter.
> 
> Also, I headcanon Aziraphale and Crowley to both be asexual. Also, I headcanon that Aziraphale is nonbinary and Crowley is genderfluid, but they’re both using he/him pronouns in this story like they do in the book and tv show.

“If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I wanna go,” –“Collar Full” -Panic! At The Disco

**Crowley**

Crowley was fine swapping bodies with Aziraphale. Crowley was fine looking over his shoulder for however long it took Heaven and Hell to find them (not nearly long enough). Crowley was even fine getting captured.

Crowley was decidedly not fine when he tried and failed to warn Aziraphale that he too was about to be captured. Crowley was not fine when he witnessed what the angels had in store for Aziraphale. They acted as if Zira meant nothing to them. Zira had failed to mention that. Crowley tries to act the way Aziraphale would: kind, personable, and politely asks the angels to reconsider. This only leads to more hateful words and anger.

“Shut your stupid mouth and die already,” Gabriel ends up saying.

Hearing those words intended for Aziraphale makes Crowley practically burn with anger. He wants to scream and cry and punch something—preferably Gabriel. The only other time he has felt this way is when he ran into Aziraphale’s burning bookshop. Of course, the difference between now and the bookshop is that this time, Crowley can _do_ something about it. Just a little something at least. He steps into the flame and watches as the angels look horrified that he has not burned up. He then proceeds to breathe fire at the angels and smirks at their terrified expressions. Crowley wishes he could do more, but he can’t antagonize them too much because (assuming things go according to plan) when the angels pretend none of this ever happened, they will take it out on Aziraphale.

The angels let him go and Crowley goes straight to the meeting place. At least, Crowley tries to. He has to stop halfway there and sit on a park bench because he can’t get Gabriel’s hateful face out of his mind. Crowley’s heart breaks for Aziraphale. Is that how Aziraphale is always treated? Just for loving everyone? Aziraphale’s big crime is loving humanity and well, perhaps Aziraphale does not _love_ Crowley per say, but Azira clearly cares about Crowley. Zira was punished for that too it seems. Why else would Gabriel have thought it was funny to make an alliance with Hell to help with Aziraphale’s punishment?

Crowley feels like there’s something cold and heavy sitting in the pit of his stomach. Is that why Az was always so scared to associate with Crowley? Because the angels are so cruel? Crowley should’ve known. He should’ve assumed that creatures as cold as the angels would never understand one as warm as Aziraphale. Zira’s warmth was why Crowley couldn’t stay away; Crowley _is_ a snake after all. Perhaps he should have stayed away…for Aziraphale’s sake. It’s too late now; Crowley must meet Az to reverse the body-swap. Crowley feels tears prick his eyes. He blinks them away. He needs to keep it together. Then he might have to remove himself from the company of his best friend—the one Crowley loves more than anything. The very idea makes Crowley feel a little like dying.

Sitting with Aziraphale on that park bench is a unique form of torture. They discuss what their superiors will do in the future. They talk about their misdeeds during the punishments. Aziraphale wiggles and practically glows with happiness as he describes his experience in Hell. Crowley finds himself loving and missing Aziraphale even more with every word. Crowley desperately wants to hug his best friend and tell him everything, but he has already lost Az once; he can’t do it again. Clearly, the angels will be unforgiving. Then again, they let him go today. Perhaps…no. Crowley can’t let himself hope. This was always a hopeless situation, but Crowley just had to push and push and push. Crowley’s so stupid.

Crowley doesn’t want to say goodbye yet, so he suggests they get lunch. He just soaks in as much Aziraphale as he can. He’s going to need to make sure they don’t see each other for a long time.

They part ways. Crowley goes straight to his flat. He can barely keep his emotions in check and nearly gets hit by two cars while walking home because his tears blind him. When he finally gets home, he gets in bed, buries himself in his blankets, and finally lets himself cry.

…

Aziraphale calls the next day, but Crowley doesn’t answer. Listening to Aziraphale’s voice on the answering machine feels like someone’s sticking nails in his heart.

…

Aziraphale calls the day after and the one after that. Crowley doesn’t answer. He can’t. He can’t put Aziraphale in any more danger.

…

The following day is different. Crowley watches the clock and wishes he could force himself to leave his flat. He wishes he could do something—anything—to distract himself from his aching heart, but he just can’t. He has been in bed for days. The clock indicates the time Aziraphale has called all the other days, and the phone doesn’t ring. Crowley feels relieved for Aziraphale’s sake and disappointed for his own selfish sake (he is still a demon after all).

There’s a knock on his door. Crowley drags himself out of bed and answers the door without looking to see who’s there. That’s Crowley’s first mistake. The second is getting flustered and staring at his angel.

“Um, hi,” Aziraphale says. “May I come in?”

“Um, well, I,” Crowley splutters.

“Is something wrong my dear? Did I—did I do something? You haven’t been returning my calls.”

Crowley should probably lie and say he didn’t get any calls or something demonic like that, but he can’t think of anything convincing to say. He _misses_ Aziraphale. Crowley wouldn’t mind Aziraphale being the death of him, but he couldn’t bear to be the death of Aziraphale.

“You need to leave.” Crowley forces the words out as his throat tightens. Tears prick his eyes, so he stares at the ground hoping that Aziraphale won’t see.

“You don’t sound too good. Are you all right?” Aziraphale asks.

“I’m fine. Jussst leave me alone!” Crowley snaps.

“I don’t understand.” Aziraphale says. “What did I do wrong? I’m sorry for it—whatever I did.”

Crowley just gestures out the open door to the hallway, still unable to look at Aziraphale.

“But, Crowley? What about us being on our side? We can’t very well do that if we’re never around each other. And,” Aziraphale’s voice breaks, sending shards of ice into Crowley’s heart. “And I—and I miss you, Crowley.”

Zira sounds as miserable as Crowley does and Crowley’s the one who made him feel this way. Crowley ruins everything; he always has. Why would now be any different?

Hot tears spill down Crowley’s face and Crowley tries to wipe them away, but they keep coming. “I’m gonna get you killed.” Crowley says in a shaky voice.

“What do you mean?” Zira asks.

“They were so cold up there during the switch. They wouldn’t even see your point of view—they wouldn’t let me speak. It was just immediate death. I—I can’t be the cause of your death. We need to stay away from each other.”

“I don’t mind risking my life to be with you.” Az says in a firm voice.

Crowley stares at Aziraphale who looks at him so earnestly with eyes full of well…Crowley’s not really sure what Aziraphale’s eyes are full of. He knows what he wishes they were full of, but Crowley doesn’t deserve that. Crowley can think of nothing to say in response except, “But, I’m a demon.”

“I know that you’re a demon, but it’s like I told you before: you’re a good person, Crowley. You try to hide it, but you’re a good person. You’re worth dying for to me. Besides, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you saving me repeatedly for the past 6000 years.”

“I’m not worth the effort.” Crowley tries to hold himself together, but he can’t. A painful sob bursts from his chest, “They’re so cruel to you and I don’t want to give them another reason to hurt you.”

“I’m afraid they’ll be like that either way. It’s not your fault, Crowley. Is it all right if I hug you, my dear? Humans do that sort of thing, but you look like you need it.” Aziraphale replies.

Crowley freezes. He has never been fond of touch. There have been too many times when touch has been negative. It’s different with Aziraphale—Az is gentle. Plus, Aziraphale seems to crave touch. You can’t hand Zira anything without brushing fingers. He seems to live for dances that involve holding hands or linking arms—even if he is rubbish at most of them.

And maybe, just maybe, even if he doesn’t want to admit it to himself…Crowley desperately wants that hug that Aziraphale’s offering.

Crowley nods and Aziraphale pulls him into a warm, gentle hug. Crowley buries his face in Zira’s shoulder feeling better but also infinitely worse because he’ll never experience this warmth again if Zira dies. “Please don’t die. Please,” Crowley sobs. “I can’t lose you again. I can’t,” Crowley hugs Aziraphale tightly.

“I will certainly try my best.” Aziraphale strokes Crowley’s hair. “As long as you promise to try to stay alive as well.”

“I can do that.” Crowley nods into Az’s shoulder.

“Looks like we have a new arrangement.”

“Looks like,”

Neither says anything for a few moments.

“Angel?” Crowley asks.

“Yes, my dear?”

“I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you by distancing myself, but I just hurt you instead. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right.”


	2. That's How I Wanna Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's point of view of the events of the previous chapter starting when he goes to Crowley's flat to check on him and ending a little after the events of the last chapter.

_“There’s always time for second-guesses, I don’t wanna know,  
If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I wanna go,”_

“Collar Full” -Panic! At The Disco-

_Aziraphale_

Aziraphale hasn’t heard from Crowley in a few days since the Switch, so Aziraphale decides to pay Crowley a visit to check on him. Aziraphale goes over to Crowley’s flat and knocks on the door. Crowley opens it and the sight of him just about tears Aziraphale’s heart to pieces. Crowley’s eyes are red around the rims, he looks as if he hasn’t slept in days, and his hair is greasy like he hasn’t showered in a few days either. That’s odd for Crowley who loves to sleep and shower.

“Um, hi,” Aziraphale says. “May I come in?”

“Um, well, I,” Crowley looks like he’s searching for words but cannot find them.

Aziraphale takes this as an opening and steps into the doorway—just a bit—and asks, “Is something wrong my dear? Did I—did I do something? You haven’t been returning my calls.”

Aziraphale hopes the last bit doesn’t make him sound too pathetic, but his bookshop has been so quiet without Crowley, so he’s willing to put his pride aside in order to get to the bottom of this.

Crowley looks at the ground and says, “You need to leave.” Crowley’s voice sounds a little choked.

Aziraphale aches to touch Crowley—to put a comforting hand on his shoulder or even hug him—but he knows Crowley does not usually go for that sort of thing. Instead he says, “You don’t sound too good. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Jussst leave me alone!” Crowley raises his voice, yelling towards the ground. He still won’t look at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale feels like something’s growing in his throat and tears prick his eyes. “I don’t understand,” he admits. “What did I do wrong? I’m sorry for it—whatever I did.”

He remembers Crowley saying something similar a few days ago when they were still trying to stop Armageddon. Crowley wanted Aziraphale to go away with him. Aziraphale’s wondering if this is how Crowley felt: desperate and confused and scared and hopeful. Although, they’re no longer trying to avert Armageddon, so Aziraphale might be feeling a little more hopeful for a positive ending to this conversation than Crowley did at the time…and a little more confused. They’re okay now. Their collective sides seem to have decided to leave them alone, so why is Crowley telling Aziraphale to go away?

Aziraphale wracks his brain for what he could have done to make Crowley not want to see him. How can he fix this? How can he convince Crowley to let him stay?

Crowley wordlessly gestures to the hallway behind Aziraphale. He’s still staring at the ground.

Aziraphale feels desperate now. It feels like an ending. He doesn’t want his friendship with Crowley to end. Especially not after everything they’ve been through together. Aziraphale loves lots of things on this earth, but he loves Crowley the most. He can’t lose him now. “But, Crowley? What about us being on our side? We can’t very well do that if we’re never around each other. And,” Aziraphale’s voice breaks. He fights tears that try to well up in his eyes and whispers, “And I—and I miss you, Crowley.”

Crowley doesn’t move for a few moments. Then he starts wiping at his face. Aziraphale realizes with a start that Crowley must be crying. “I’m gonna get you killed.” Crowley says in a shaky voice.

“What do you mean?” Aziraphale asks.

“They were sssso cold up there during the switch. They wouldn’t even ssssee your point of view—they wouldn’t let me speak. It was just immediate death. I—I can’t be the cause of your death. We need to ssssssstay away from each other.”

Aziraphale straightens up and clears his throat. “I don’t mind risking my life to be with you.” He says. He’s ready now. He can handle it. If he dies because of being with Crowley, then so be it; Crowley’s worth it.

Crowley slowly looks up at Aziraphale and stares at him for a long while before whispering, “But…I’m a demon.”

Guilt crawls across Aziraphale’s heart. It’s his fault Crowley’s saying this now—it’s his fault for always pointing that out before. Aziraphale wishes he could shake the past version of himself for being too scared to act on his feelings and behaving too cruelly to Crowley.

“I know that you’re a demon, but it’s like I told you before: you’re a good person, Crowley. You try to hide it, but you’re a good person. You’re worth dying for to me. Besides, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you saving me repeatedly for the past 6000 years.”

Crowley’s mouth shakes and he looks down, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not worth the effort.” He puts a hand over his mouth and ducks his head as he lets out a sob. He hugs himself tighter. “They’re sssso cruel to you and I don’t want to give them another reassssssson to hurt you.”

Aziraphale blinks back tears. He shouldn’t be surprised that Crowley is worried about him. Crowley has always been highly empathetic for a demon. It just hurts to see him so upset without really being able to help. “I’m afraid they’ll be like that either way. It’s not your fault, Crowley. Is it all right if I hug you, my dear? Humans do that sort of thing, but you look like you need it.” Aziraphale replies.

Crowley stops moving for a long time.

Aziraphale doesn’t dare move or say anything. It’s like the two are frozen in this place, in this moment. Aziraphale doesn’t even allow himself to breathe.

Then Crowley nods.

Aziraphale carefully gathers Crowley into his arms and hugs him as gently as he can.

Crowley buries his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder and sobs. “Pleasssse don’t die. Pleasssssse.” Crowley’s shaking. “I can’t lossssssse you again. I can’t,” Crowley’s voice cuts off and he clings tightly to Aziraphale, sobbing.

Aziraphale feels tears spill down his face. He doesn’t mean to cry, but Crowley’s so scared and upset, it’s hard _not_ to cry right now.

“I will certainly try my best.” Aziraphale strokes Crowley’s hair. “As long as you promise to try to stay alive as well.”

“I can do that.”

Aziraphale can’t help but smile a little as he says, “Looks like we have a new arrangement.”

“Looks like,” Crowley sniffles.

Neither says anything for a few moments.

“Angel?” Crowley asks.

“Yes, my dear?”

“I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you by distancing myself, but I just hurt you instead. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

There’s another bit of silence before Aziraphale says. “Crowley?”

“Yes?”

“I truly believe we’re going to be okay. As long as we stay on our side, I believe we will be okay.”

“All right, angel.” Crowley pulls away and wipes his face on his jacket sleeve.

Aziraphale rubs at his own eyes with his hands and asks, “Would you like to come to my bookshop for some cocoa and Shakespeare?”

“Do you want to watch a film production of _Hamlet_? I have the equipment here; I can bring it.”

“That sounds delightful.”

They gather the equipment, head downstairs, and get into Crowley’s car. Crowley drives them to Aziraphale’s bookshop. Aziraphale closes his eyes for most of the ride because, as usual, Crowley speeds down the road like it’s his job. Perhaps it _is_ his job. He _is_ a demon after all. When they arrive, Crowley sets up the tv while Aziraphale gets the cocoa ready. Twenty minutes later, the cocoa is gone and Aziraphale can feel Crowley moving on the couch. Aziraphale looks over at Crowley who seems to be doing his best not to fall asleep.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asks.

Crowley looks around, “Huh? What?”

Aziraphale tries to choose his words carefully. “You can um…lean against me if that might make you more comfortable. You look like you’re falling asleep over there.”

“I’m not ssssleeping.” Crowley mumbles.

“Okay,” Aziraphale says, turning back to the movie.

A few minutes later, Crowley scoots closer to Aziraphale. A few more minutes later, Aziraphale feels Crowley slowly rest his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale’s heart beats faster. He tries to stay as still as possible so as not to disturb Crowley, but he feels so pleased that Crowley is resting against him.

“Isss thisssss alright, angel?” Crowley whispers.

“Yes, my dear,” Aziraphale replies.

A few minutes pass and Crowley’s breathing evens out. Aziraphale carefully glances over and sees that Crowley’s asleep. Aziraphale can hardly believe it. Aziraphale doesn’t think he has ever seen Crowley look this at peace before. Aziraphale feels warm inside. Crowley must really trust him if he can fall asleep like this so quickly. The movie isn’t even halfway over and Crowley’s asleep with his head rested on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale smiles to himself; Crowley never did like _Hamlet_ anyway.


End file.
